Unwritten Law (Steele Brothers 1)

“Would you, maybe, wanna dance with us?” the brunette asks.

“Because you want to dance with a guy but don’t want to be groped, and seeing as we’re at a gay bar, you think I’m not into groping?”

They stare at me, mouths agape.

I lift my chin in the direction of the dance floor. “I’m here because my brother refuses to go to straight bars.”

“That’s a little unfair,” the brunette says and pouts, stepping closer. “How do you pick up in a gay bar?”

I’m not here to pick up, but a distraction might be nice. I force a smile. “How about that dance?”

“You two go on ahead,” the brunette says. “I just have to run to the bathroom. I’ll be out there soon.”

I turn to the blonde. “I guess it’s just us.”

She looks between her friend and me. “Y-you want to dance … with me?”

Her friend encourages us to go with a satisfied smirk, and I think I’ve just walked into a trap. Especially when the brunette heads for the bar, not the toilets.

I don’t want to lead this woman on. She’s cute and all, but I’m in a rut, and not the type that can be cured by fucking any woman that moves.

“I’m sorry about her,” she yells over the music. “I just broke up with my boyfriend, and she convinced me to come out, but I said I didn’t want to be set up. Hence the gay bar. Guess that backfired, huh?”

I lean in so she can hear me. “Your boyfriend’s a dick.”

She throws her head back and laughs.

“It’s just a dance.” I grab her hand and lead her to where my brother was before.

I can’t see him anymore, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s snuck off for a quick BJ with that guy.

With my arms around this woman, I pull her close, but I don’t grind against her. I’m not here for a hook-up. Especially a rebound situation. I honestly don’t know if I can be bothered to make the effort.

Twenty seconds into our dance, Anders’ friend bounces up to us. He’s a good six inches shorter than me and looks too young to be in a club.

“You’re back.” His boyish smile makes him look even younger.

And how drunk is he? My brother is wearing a blue shirt, and I’m wearing a black button-down.

Before I have the chance to tell him I’m not Anders, he’s bumping the girl out of his way, standing on his tiptoes, and planting his mouth on mine. I try to step back, but his hands wrap around my waist and pull me against him.

His mouth is surprisingly soft for a guy, but the hint of stubble as it scrapes along my chin awakens something in me I didn’t even know was there. I mean, I’ve suspected and fantasised about it, but now it’s actually happening, there’s no denying it.

When his tongue pushes past my lips, I freeze. I contemplate taking this and letting my tongue meet his. Yeah, he’s not my type, and yeah, he thinks I’m Anders, but he is a guy, and it’s just a kiss—

“What the fuck?” Anders’ voice cuts through the loud space.

The guy steps back, his gaze flitting between me and my brother, and his hand flies to his mouth.

Anders squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry, bro.”

“Isn’t the first time someone’s mistaken me for you,” I say dryly and wipe my mouth.

“Twins?” the guy says, practically squealing.

“Don’t get any ideas, Chris,” Anders says. “He’s straight. And we definitely aren’t into twin fantasy shit.”

Eww, hell no.

Chris pales. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrug. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Thanks for being a good sport about this,” Anders says. “Any other guy might’ve thrown a punch.”

“You know that’s not my style.” I tell the kids who come through the doors of my dojo that the martial arts I teach is only to be used in defence. It would be hypocritical of me not to do the same.

“Okay, Chris, quick lesson for you,” Anders says and points to his left eyebrow. “Pierced.” He points to me. “Not pierced. Got it?”

Chris nods. “Got it.”

Anders shoves him playfully. “Now, don’t kiss my brother again, asshole.” They disappear into the crowd of sweaty, half-naked guys, and I can never get over how different the start to Anders’ flings are compared to a few weeks later when everything goes to shit.

He goes through the same motions, and it always ends the same. He goes from confident to unsure to panic attack mode, and he’s as predictable as his breakups. I anticipate having to break up with Chris in a few weeks. Although, I don’t know how that will work when Anders has given away our secret. Then again, Chris didn’t exactly give us an option in this situation. I usually don’t meet Anders’ boyfriends until I’m breaking up with them. Anders stays at their place, and if he does ever have someone at our apartment, I’m exiled to my room and am referred to as the roommate.